


Exposed

by HollyShadow88



Series: ABCs of Harry Potter [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Betrayal, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Army, Gen, Interrogation, Mental Breakdown, Parent-Child Relationship, Peer Pressure, Ravenclaw, Room of Requirement, Sneaking, Umbridge is a bitch and no one is surprised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1997772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyShadow88/pseuds/HollyShadow88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The High Inquisitor is making her way through the students in search of what is happening behind closed doors.  Marietta cracks under the pressure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exposed

**Author's Note:**

> Marietta Edgecombe is yet another character who fell prey to the Not in the Movies Syndrome. She's the best friend of Cho Chang and rightful betrayer of the DA (though I admit I loved the fact that Cho revealed the gropu in the movie, mostly because I dislike her and think she's a whiny pansy). We don't know too much about her - mostly that she's a Ravenclaw, friends with Cho, and worried about her mother's job at the Ministry, which is why she tells Umbridge about the DA. I've always thought of her as kind of an ass, mostly because we don't really get a very good idea of her general character beyond her animosity toward Harry, but writing as her gave me a bit more perspective on what she might have been going through. I admit that the last line is probably a bit out of character. It was too fun to resist and therefore I do not care.

“Professor…?”

The older woman’s stout head rose, irritation flushing her cheeks. Almost instantly, her expression melted back into her usual sickeningly sweet yet completely unbelievable air of welcome as she set her quill aside, rising slowly to her feet. Marietta rubbed her elbow uncomfortably from the doorway, still debating with herself over her decision even now that her choice appeared obvious.

It all came down to pressure. Pressure from her mother – daily letters outlining the danger she was placing on her already questionable position at the Ministry, reminders of how difficult their lives were before they had a weekly income, threats of pulling her out of Hogwarts if she insisted upon continuing. Pressure from Cho – insistence that they were doing the right thing, cries and tears not to betray the boy she ‘loved,’ proof that they genuinely learned something of value at the secret meetings. Pressure from herself – disbelief that You-Know-Who had returned, sympathy for her best and only true friend, precise and yet utterly irrational hatred for the Boy Who Lived and stole her friend’s heart. Marietta never did well with pressure, and the overwhelming build up of it over the last few weeks finally took its toll.

Umbridge gestured her kindly to a chair, but she refused to be tricked by this creature posing as a professor. As much as she irrationally disliked Harry Potter, she loathed Dolores Umbridge more. The woman was just so dreadfully fake, from her always perfectly set hair to the heels that clacked menacingly through the school’s corridors. To a certain extent, Marietta could empathize with the way she acted. She was attempting to keep her job, same as Marietta’s mother, and possibly even doing what she believed was right. That did not, however, give her the excuse to use her position to torment students. And she took such **pleasure** in the act – she hid it well, but Marietta spent her childhood learning how to properly people. Each new education decree, gradually growing more ridiculous in their attempts to not so subtly take over the school, left the young witch convinced that the woman was disturbed and in serious need of mental help. The fact that she seemed more than willing to harm a student to gain what she wanted was all the further proof Marietta needed.

Student sat before professor, each eyeing the other cautiously. Eventually, Umbridge tapped her tea kettle, silently offering Marietta a cup. She shook her head in refusal, Umbridge responding with an almost indifferent shrug as she took one of her own and returned to her desk. She continued to study Marietta over the elaborate cup’s edge, her eyes sharp and calculating.

“What can I do for you, Miss…?” her overly kind voice asked.

“Edgecombe,” Marietta replied, certain the toad knew exactly who she was the second she opened her office door. Everyone at the Ministry was being carefully watched, transferring down to the High Inquisitor watching their children. Her speculation was confirmed when Umbridge remained silent and unsurprised.

“Miss Edgecombe,” she finally stated, lowering her cup to smile down at her. “Whatever is the matter, my dear? You must know you can tell me anything.”

**As long as it’s useful information, you mean** , Marietta thought viciously, but spoke before she could change her mind. “You’re missing something very important.”

The older woman blinked several times, obviously shocked and more than a bit affronted at her tone. “Excuse me?”

“There are rule breakers about,” she continued, hoping she would catch her clues without Marietta needing to come out straight out and say it. “Right in the open, but you can’t see them. They’re too well hidden.”

“Where, Marietta? Tell me where!” Umbridge gave herself away when she knew her first name. Marietta remained silent – she was a Ravenclaw, after all, which meant she was intelligent. She was not about to betray everyone without being given adequate cause.

It quickly became clear to Umbridge that she needed to employ a different approach. Rising to her feet, she came to sit directly beside Marietta, a pudgy hand resting on the arm of her chair. What may have been considered a concerned expression had it been anyone other than the Ministry’s personal lapdog fell over her features as she stared down the teenager. “How is your family, Marietta? Is everything well at home?”

“It’s fine,” she tersely replied, refusing to make eye contact. This decision was proving to have been the more foolish of the two the longer she sat in the pink, kitten plastered office.

“Your mother?” Umbridge prodded, already certain that she chose the correct path of interrogation to follow if she wanted Marietta to crack. “Have you spoken with her recently?”

“She sends me a letter nearly every day,” Marietta muttered, continuing to speak half truths. **Think, Marietta! You’re a Ravenclaw; you can do this!**

“How is her new job going? She recently moved up in the Ministry, if I remember correctly. I was just speaking to Cornelius the other day – “

“I cannot make a single mistake,” the girl blurted out, her thoughts somehow making their way to her lips. Though Umbridge attempted to appear dumbstruck, her eyes danced in triumph. She leaned forward eagerly, attempting to mask it as an affectionate pat on her arm.

“Of course not, my dear,” she crooned. “The daughter’s actions reflect on the mother, you know, and vice versa. As of yet I have no reason to doubt your sincerity, but should I discover something – “

“There’s a room, seventh floor, left corridor,” Marietta stated dully, clenching her eyes closed as though her betrayal wouldn’t be as obvious if she couldn’t see the consequences. “Behind the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy. We’ve been meeting there to learn defensive magic.”

“Who?” Umbridge breathed, excitement nearly radiating from her skin. “Who has?”

“An…organization,” she stuttered. “Dumbledore’s Army. Led by Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley…and Harry Potter.”

The built up tension, a result of the excess of anxiety on her heart and mind, burst just as an awkward tingling began along her forehead. She tried to ignore it, and the growing feeling of panic and treachery that came as side effects of her confession, as Umbridge looked as gleeful as a child who had just been told Christmas was a weekly holiday. The professor ignored her, jumping to her feet and rushing to her fireplace to inform someone of the knowledge she’d just gained. Marietta tried to focus on stopping her, but the tingling was increasing, becoming more painful as the feeling spread. Quite suddenly it stopped, leading Marietta to seek out a mirror to study what happened. She stood to approach one that hung behind Umbridge’s desk, a mixture of loathing, embarrassment, and righteous anger filling her soul as she took her reflection in.

The word SNEAK, spelled out in ferocious, fiery red blemishes, had formed across her face. Its cause was obvious, and she knew of only one of her fellow classmates who could have accomplished such an advanced and elaborate charm.

**“That bushy haired bitch!”**


End file.
